Buffy woke up the next morning to the image of Spike sleeping. They hadn't moved much since falling asleep and her hands were still gripping his arm and he was still gripping back. His free hand had made its way over to his stomach where he was protecting his wound. Quickly she pulled away the hand that gripped his forearm and tried to move the one wound around his hand. Every time she pulled away, slowly he would grip his fingers tighter on her. She eventually jerked her hand away landing her elbow in her stomach. Grunting, she sat up and stretched out, her muscles were sore from the lack of movement over the night. Walking to the window she peeked behind the curtain and saw the sun shining behind some clouds. Looked like they weren't going out that day.

Turning back to Spike, making sure the curtain was closed, even if the look on his face of waking up to sun was tempting, she saw him flip to his back still sound asleep. The blanket fell from him and his hand pushed away from his stomach and Buffy could see the red that had seeped through the cloth. She shook her head at him, still wanting to know how he let himself get stabbed. She looked down at her hands to see they were as good as new. There was no proof that any burn was there the night before.

Shaking her head at Spike again she bent down to pick up her ripped up shirt from the make-shift bed. Moving to the side of the bed Spike had flipped to she folded it up in her hands and sat on the edge, trying not to wake him. Knowing him, he would probably have started teasing or commenting right off the bat about the hand holding and the taking care of him, not that he wasn't guilty of it too. He would just have some excuse lined up, she was sure. A sleeping Spike was a quiet Spike and she was happy with that.

Keeping pressure on the scrap of fabric laying on his wound she undid the tie with her other hand. He didn't stir and she peeled the bloody fabric from him. The stab was better than it had been the night before. It really had healed quite a bit, it wasn't bleeding out and it had closed almost all the way, and she was almost sure he wouldn't need a new 'bandage' but she would do it anyway. It wasn't like it could hurt any. Tossing the bloody fabric to the side she put on the clean one remembering how much she had liked that shirt when she bought it. She never thought it would end up ripped up and helping Spike.

After retying the tie she found her hands stuck on his body again. It was kind of funny to her how his body could be two different temperatures. His lower half, the one that the blanket covered, was warm because it matched the heat her body produced over night but the more she slid her fingertips up, the colder he was. She wondered if this would be what Spike's skin would feel like if he were human, the lower half anyway. It was a strange thought and she moved her fingers back up to his upper half to remind herself that he was cold and dead.

As she did that he breathed in slowly, contradicting the thoughts of convincing herself he wasn't alive. She retreated her hands and took a moment to stare at the wall confused. It was bad enough about what happened the night before, though the excuses she made up last night were rolling through her head, but now she was allowing herself to actually touch him. Of course it didn't mean anything but it was Spike. Spike! Who she normally wouldn't touch with a ten foot pole. She really needed to get back home to her friends and family who could shake these weird thoughts from her. She was getting too comfortable.

Getting up off the bed she triple checked that he was still sleeping, waving a hand in front of his face and leaning in to see if his eyelids were open a smidge, but he didn't show any signs. She sighed to herself and moved to get dressed. She had no idea what time it was or if they had missed breakfast again but she wanted to be wearing something else no matter what.

Spike's eyes burst open when Buffy left the bed. He had been awake the entire time Buffy had been or at least since she got up off the bed. He had slipped his eyes open for a peak when she was looking out the window. The sun was streaming on her face which meant he wasn't going anywhere that day. That wasn't what troubled him most though. Of course he felt what he thought he would last night; confused.

Every excuse he tried to make up was lack luster and he really just didn't care and that made him more confused and even more so mad. He was the Big Bad not a hand holding goody-two-shoes McGee. And as the Big Bad, he didn't feel like looking the slayer in the face yet. Who knew what she was thinking of him? So he tossed himself to his back. Only a slight pull was felt on his stomach which meant he was mostly healed. He was sure he wouldn't be doing back flips till nightfall though.

Then Buffy had come to fix him up and she was poking him? He really wasn't sure what she was doing at first but then her hands started sliding up and down his front. What was she trying to do? Did she realize what she was doing to him? He couldn't move for fear of letting the slayer know he was awake, earning him a slap, but she was tickling him. Tickling him, in that way that you don't tickle your enemy.

Okay so there is no way to tickle your enemy but still, she was touching him in a way that would normally earn her a pin against the wall and the loss of layers of their clothing if she were anyone else but Buffy. He couldn't help the shaky breath and felt her move away from him as he let it out. Mentally he was trying to shake the image of making the slayer scream in an all too pleasurable way by thinking of anything else. What seemed to be working was imaging Harmony talk about her unicorn collection. Yeah, that was a turn-off. Tilting his head up he could see Buffy was almost done dressing and he sunk back down still not really sure what to do or say. Grunting was all that came out of him when he used his hands to push himself to sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Sun is out today." Buffy said knowing Spike was up but not really wanting to face him. It just felt really awkward.

"Fantastic." Undoing the tie wrapped around him and looking under the fabric it held he pretended to notice the change of dressing. "You do this?" Buffy turned and nodded. "When?"

"Before."

"Before when?" She ignored him. "When I was sleeping?" He teased already knowing the answer. "Don't know if I like that slayer. Having your hands all on me. You could be taking advantage of me." He threw the articles on the ground and leaned back on the bed grinning when he saw Buffy looking at his chest.

"The only time I would want my hands on you would be holding you down with a stake in my hand."

"Still sounds dirty pet."

"Spike-"

"And if I remember correctly, you wanted your hands all on me last night." She sighed with her eyes closed visibly trying to keep her cool.

"Insert violent death threat here." He just grinned in response before leaning over to find another jar of blood. "Aren't you going to put a shirt on?" Buffy looked away annoyed that she kept looking at his sculpted chest.

"Don't have one." Smirking he took a long drink from the jar. "Besides, won't matter. I can't go out anywhere."

"Aw don't say that. If you keep talking I'm sure we can arrange it so you end up outside."

He smirked at her again and drank more blood. Buffy walked over to the door and opened it to see an empty hallway. They hadn't missed breakfast this time.

"I'm going to go do stuff and eat if they're up. I have no idea what time it is. Are you going to stay here?"

"Well I'm certainly not going down there."

"Whatever Spike."

"You're coming back aren't you?" She was halfway into the hall when he called her back and she spun around to face him.

"Why?"

"There's nothing to do in here! There's no tele- Oh no." His face fell into a sad somber stare and he sat up straight.

"What?"

"I've missed so much of Passions!"

"What?" She incredulously asked. Was he really that worried about a TV show?

"How am I going to catch up?" He ran his hands through his hair which was still surprisingly firm. All that gel was doing its job.

"Goodbye Spike." She reached out for the handle of the door.

"Wait!"

"What?"

"At least come back after breakfast. I can't be cooped up in this house with nothing to do all day." He leaned forward looking absolutely pathetic. He really hated asking the slayer for company especially when it would be just the two of them. Alone. In a very small room. They probably would kill each other.

"And whose problem is that?" She made to leave again.

"Fine." He groaned out and leaned on an arm propped on his leg. "I'll come down if you get me."

"Are you going to put a shirt on?" She didn't really want to need Spike around and the thought of being without him for a bit was great but she was also frightened to be with his family by herself. Of course she could handle it, she knew that, but she wasn't sure for how long. For all she knew she would say something completely ridiculously American and she would have no way of fixing it. Or they would mention something about the Queen or King or Parliament or whatever it was that ran their country and she would just look like an idiot. For a few hours yes, it would be great to be without Spike for a bit, but for the day, no.

"Are you going to put a shirt on?" He mimicked her voice with a ridiculous face and she just glared at him with her arms crossed.

"You're a child."

"I'm older than you." He scoffed in a child-like manor. She rolled her eyes knowing it would be much easier to threaten him with the sun out and headed back around to the hall, closing the door behind her.

It was also funny to her, that the morning had started out so awkward but it ended like every other that included Spike. Making her way over to the bathroom she would make up some excuse for their indoor stay and think of what to do for the day. It was a long day before their plans for the council.

"And what are your plans for the day?" Anne turned to Buffy asking her the question.

Shortly after she had returned to the bathroom she found herself running into Rose who was leading her to the dining room. Breakfast was similar to the day before, biscuits with jam and honey, and they were almost done eating, as it was late morning. Buffy had told them all that the reason her husband wasn't with them was because of his sensitive headaches and that she was letting him sleep it off and that he would be sensitive to sunlight all day. She made sure to say sensitive as many times as she could.

Rose had told them about her plans to meet a friend for lunch and that after she was coming home. Anne was going to go to her relative's house for a few hours to teach them about sewing a special pattern and William was going to walk her there. He was coming back though, something Buffy knew Spike wouldn't like. It was just going to be the three of them alone in the house, with Charles and Margret the cook of course.

Buffy found herself under the stare of the Moore mother and she swallowed trying to think of an answer. "I'm not sure really." She started to play with the hem of her sleeve. "With Alexander in bed, I'm not sure what to do with myself."

"Nonsense. You must come with me then. I will teach you the pattern as well."

"Oh no, I um- I couldn't impose like that. Plus, I don't want to leave Alexander here alone like this." Even if it would be nice for a few hours.

"Oh don't worry about him. It's but a ten minute walk and William will be home if he needs him. You're coming." There was no question about it.

"Alright." Buffy replied sheepishly. They had all finished eating and a plate was made up for Spike, even though Buffy was just going to eat it in the room anyway.

"Now take that plate up to your husband, make him eat, and meet us in the parlor. We'll leave when you're ready."

They all left the table and Buffy made her way back to the guest room. Spike was going to spaz and she knew it. In the room she found him lying on his back, blankets low on his stomach, blood jar empty on the ground next to his pants, and the pillow covering his face. Why had he taken off his pants?

"If I hold that down will it do anything to you?" She obviously knew vampires couldn't be suffocated but it was still worth the question.

"Don't!" He grabbed the pillow and threw it off himself. "I'm claustrophobic." He crossed his arm over his eyes and peaked at her eating his breakfast from under it. "Is that mine?"

"Were you planning on eating it?" The food mumbled her question.

"Margret always made the best biscuit. What'd you tell them?"

"I told them you had a sensitive headache and that you were sensitive to the sun with your sensitive headache so you'd sleep in and stay inside all day. Because you're sensitive."

"Sensitive?! I-" It had the desired effect. "And what are you going to do?"

"Well your mother insisted I go with her to learn how to sew and then I'm coming back. Probably to hang out with Rose."

"So I'm trapped here by myself?"

"No, William will be here." She said it with a grin as she saw his body tense, his arm was thrown to his side.

"I'm to be left with William?"

"Yeah. That's not a problem is it?" She set down the plate and wiped the crumbs off her hands.

"I'm in hell." He snapped so he was in an upright position. He still clutched his side from the wound but it was clearly doing better since he didn't yell in pain. He swung his bare legs over the side of the bed. "That's what this is. Trapped in my old house, alone with Willy the ponce and no booze! I'm in hell. There was no wish. I died. I died and went to hell."

"Aren't you being a little dramatic? I'm sure there's alcohol somewhere-"

"No. Mother forbid it from being in the house. Father would-" He suddenly stopped himself from talking and stared at the ground. A wave of sympathy fell over Buffy but she let it go.

"So what am I doing in your hell?" She changed the subject.

"Well that's a stupid question now isn't it?"

"Well I would have thought if I was in your Hell that I'd be the one torturing you. You know, kicking your ass, stake in the heart each day." She meant it playfully but her words only seemed to make him angry.

"Your torture is just being here."

"And what is that supposed to mean?" She moved her hands on her hips. She really hadn't expected a fight this morning. That was a lie, of course Spike would fight.

"Really slayer? Thought it was painfully obvious. You're the one-"

"Sit back down!" Buffy yelled putting a hand in front of her eyes and holding out the other to cover the lower half of his body. Instead of sitting, he grabbed the blanket and wrapped it around his lower body, hanging low on his hips, and walked closer.

"You're the cause of everything that has happened to me. You're the one that has messed up my life. You're the reason that this chip is in my head. You're the one who toys with me all the time."

"I didn't do anything to you."

"That's rich slayer. You've done all that and more! You're the one that made Dru leave me. You're the one that made me alone. You're the one that can't seem to leave me be! And you're the one who makes me feel this way!" Every reason that popped in his head made him yell louder and louder. "Of course you're in my hell. Who better to send than you slayer? You're the one who ruined my life!"

"I can't express in words how done I am with you right now."

Buffy had too many questions and too many arguments she knew would lead nowhere. The one that kept repeating in her mind was; feel what way?

"If you want to live long enough to get out of this place, I suggest you leave me the hell alone." On that note she pushed Spike away from her body and he stumbled a bit backwards. She grabbed the plate from behind her on the dresser and stormed out of the room, slamming the door on the way out.

Spike stood, staring at the closed door and dropped the blanket to his feet wanting nothing more than to tear the room apart. He knew he couldn't do that so he decided to throw the blanket on the bed as forcefully as he could. It wasn't enough. Nothing but being able to kick her ass would be enough.

Moving next to the bed he noticed the shirt the slayer had used to wrap his wound that morning and picked it up. Smelling it he was overwhelmed with her sent and his anger rose even more. His face turned demonic and he ripped the shirt apart with his vampire teeth.